


Beautifully Orchestrated Plans

by BerryBagel



Series: BerryBagel Rarepair Week 2019 [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: AU where Daenerys comes to Westeros earlier, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Mild Angst, WILDLY canon divergent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-25
Updated: 2019-02-25
Packaged: 2019-11-05 09:49:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17916506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BerryBagel/pseuds/BerryBagel
Summary: When Daenerys takes King's Landing, Margaery is taken prisoner.  Margaery's ability to charm anyone meets Daenerys's overwhelming susceptibility to flattery.Day two prompt: burning/freezing





	Beautifully Orchestrated Plans

All of Daenerys’s advisors swear twice over that Margaery Tyrell is the queen in King’s Landing.  She’s a force to be reckoned with, Tyrion promises, as shrewd as they come. Smarter and quicker than Cersei, and prettier as well.  The real force behind the throne.

 

That may well be true.  Nevertheless, Daenerys feels that a truly powerful queen might  _ not _ have been found imprisoned in her own dungeons.

 

The Unsullied had almost not found Lady Tyrell at all.  The king, a boy barely out of childhood, claimed no knowledge of his wife’s whereabouts.  The queen mother refused questioning with such disdain that she had to be brought away in cuffs.  Daenerys assumed that Lady Tyrell had fled the keep.

 

Then Cersei Lannister had refused to stop screaming in her cell.  The sound was deeply unsettling to the other prisoners. The guards looked deeper into the dungeons to find a more isolated spot to keep her, and that’s where they found Margaery.

 

The queen had been delirious, barely conscious with hunger.  Queen Margaery Tyrell may be Daenerys’s foremost enemy, but a starving girl left to die in a dungeon isn’t anyone Daenerys is interested in striking down.  Margaery had been relocated to more comfortable quarters immediately.

 

Tyrion suggests that Margaery could have feigned her own imprisonment to curry favor.  Daenerys, after watching Margaery consume an entire cooked chicken without a second’s pause, expects that is probably not the case.

 

* * *

Daenerys is sure to pay personal attention to her most esteemed prisoner.  It’s the prudent thing to do. Of the deposed royal family, Margaery has undoubtedly been the most willing to cooperate.  An alliance with the Tyrells could be completely conceivable, in the near future.

 

Tyrion raises question, when Margaery is allowed to return to her quarters in the keep.  Daenerys emphasizes the importance of fostering a cordial relationship with the Tyrells.

 

“She’s your  _ prisoner _ , how cordial do you think she really feels?” Tyrion asks.

 

* * *

Daenerys’s wardrobe isn’t fully stocked for winter weather, and incidentally, neither is Margaery’s.  They spend the afternoon with the seamstress, being measured for coats and heavy woolen layers.

 

Margaery is trying on a fur stole for size.  It’s particularly ugly, with beads and feathers stitched along the edges.  Margaery wraps it around her shoulders anyways, and flutters her eyelashes coyly at Daenerys.  They both collapse in laughter onto the chaise.

 

They’re both still reclining on the chaise when Tyrion finds them.  He calls Daenerys aside, to the hall. No doubt he thinks Margaery is still masterminding her grand plot against Daenerys.  Daenerys assures him that there’s no harm in letting the deposed queen have some nice furs. In fact, it would almost be cruel not to.

 

“It’s  _ freezing _ out there.” Daenerys reminds him.  There are windows in the hallway, and snow is swirling down.

 

“Which shouldn’t matter, since she isn’t going ‘out there’.” Tyrion says.

 

* * *

Missandei doesn’t care for drinking, but Margaery is happy enough to share a glass of wine or two.

 

Or three or four.

 

It’s a good Dornish vintage, sent to celebrate the treaty with Dorne.  Tyrion had tried a glass and said there were floral notes. Daenerys repeats that to Margaery, because it seems appropriate.  Tyrells are flowers and flowers are florals. All of Margaery’s dresses have little flowers on them.

 

The dress Margaery is wearing now is a deep green floral print.  Daenery traces an embroidered flower with her fingertip. It’s pretty, like Margaery.

 

“Strong wine.” Margaery comments.  She’s right. Daenerys tucks her face into the crook of Margaery’s neck.  She smells good. Floral notes, Daenerys thinks to herself, and giggles.

 

It’s still snowing outside.  Margaery sips her own glass of wine, and watches the window.  She gently runs a hand through Daenerys’s hair.

 

“Do you like the snow?” Daenerys asks.  She can’t quite make out the look on Margaery’s face.  Kind of happy, but kind of not.

 

“Yes,” Margaery says.  “I wonder if it’s snowing in Highgarden.”

 

* * *

An unpleasant man called Littlefinger is the ruling lord of the Vale.  He comes to King’s Landing to scheme and whore, and stops in to pay respects to his new ruler.

 

Margaery has the run of the keep, and Littlefinger sees her in the halls.

 

“Do you think that’s wise?” He asks Daenerys.

 

No, Daenerys does not think the amount of trust she’s placed in Margaery is wise.  But she isn’t acting out of wisdom.

 

“I’ve spoken with Lady Tyrell once before.  She spoke of her... consuming desire, to be queen.” Littlefinger says.

 

“Is that so?” Daenerys asks.

 

“Yes, I’m sorry.” Littlefinger says, visibly not sorry.  “I’d imagine that goal would be somewhat at odds with your budding friendship.”

 

* * *

Daenerys finds herself in Margaery’s bed more often than not, these nights.  They don’t do more than lie beside each other. It wouldn’t be appropriate. Margaery is still her prisoner.  Even just sharing this nighttime company is incautious.

 

But Margaery had invited her, irresistibly welcoming in her nest of furs.  What did Daenerys’s own quarters have to offer that could even begin to compete?

 

Margaery is sound asleep.  Her hair fans out around her on the pillow.  She’s beautiful, and Daenerys now understands that this is exactly the situation she was warned about.  Margaery is exactly as clever and perceptive as her advisors said. Daenerys knows she’s being played like a lyre.  The only thing keeping Margaery here is the fact that she has not yet outright asked to leave.

 

The well-calculated maneuver would be to marry Margaery off to an ally.  The Tyrells would likely agree, and any number of lords would kill to marry Lady Tyrell.

 

Daenerys doesn’t want to send Margaery off to marry some lord.  She wants Margaery to be able to see the snowfall in Highgarden.  She wants Margaery to stay here in King’s Landing with her. She wants to reach out and touch, but she won’t.  She’ll happily play directly into Margaery’s beautifully orchestrated plans. She won’t delude herself into thinking Margaery feels anything more than a sense of triumph.

 

* * *

Margaery is allowed to leave with an escort of knights from The Reach.  She wears one of her new woolen cloaks.

 

Daenerys watches the contingent leave.  Margaery looks back at her with a perfectly calculated smile.

 

Margaery has promised to negotiate with her family for an alliance with Daenerys.  Perhaps they’ll appreciate the belated release of their only remaining heir. In theory, Daenerys has the force of dragonfire to inspire cooperation.  In practice, Daenerys’s bluff has been well and truly called, and Margaery can go ahead and do whatever she wants..

 

“I hope you understand, this is  _ exactly _ how Robb Stark lost Winterfell.” Tyrion helpfully points out.

 

Daenerys wonders if Robb Stark’s feelings towards Theon Greyjoy were akin to her own feelings for Margaery.  The loyalty of a prisoner is, really, no true loyalty.

 

* * *

There’s no word from Margaery for well over a fortnight, until suddenly she returns.  Highgarden has outlined a fair, if limited, plans for alliance.

 

Margaery will stay in King’s Landing as one of Daenerys’s small council.  She is beautifully incongruous with the meeting’s severity.

 

Things are different now.  Margaery is no longer playing to win, or if she is, is playing at a different game entirely.  She’s dialed down the charm, no longer giggling at everything. If Daenerys wants to hear Margaery laugh, she’s going to have to actually say something funny.

 

That’s the way it should be.  Margaery doesn’t have to act as though she owes Daenerys anything, so what she does offer is freely given.  When she reaches out to touch, Daenerys can reach back.

 

“I still think of myself as the queen.” Margaery idly comments.  They lie in Margaery’s bed once more, bare-breasted and curled together.  It’s not an unreasonable thing to say. Margaery wields command of armies, and has the strength of dragons behind her.

 

“ _ The _ queen?” Daenerys still can’t help but ask.  “And what of me?”

 

Margaery laughs.  “You’ve said it yourself.  Not a queen, but a Khaleesi.”

 

A queen and a khaleesi, a perfectly matched pair.  It’s still snowing outside. Neither woman looks to the window to watch.


End file.
